


The Reconditioning of Hordak

by Balladbird



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-24 07:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21334651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balladbird/pseuds/Balladbird
Summary: Sometimes, its the moment when you're being robbed of everything that helps you finally understand yourself.
Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 259





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time in years that a ship has given me such complex feelings that I had to express them with fic. Currently waffling between keeping this as a one-shot angst/character piece or expanding it into a multi-chapter, more conventionally happy romance story. Guess I'll wait and see how strong and persistent these complex shipping feels turn out to be! Be warned that you should be at least up to season 4 if you want to avoid spoilers with this one.

“You are mistaken! Unhand me! All I did, I did for you!” Hordak wanted to roar these words, to make his anger, desperation, and indignation known. Failing a roar, he would have happily settled for at least speaking them. However, though he formed the sentences in his mind, his lips made no effort to give them sound.  
  
His body was limp. His long, thin limbs falling slackly downward as though he were a marionette whose strings had been cut. He was being carried down the corridor of the great ship by two guards, each of whom had taken one of his arms about their shoulders and begun to drag his motionless body along. He couldn’t see them- the gaze of his glowing green eyes was pointed downward, bobbing along with his head each time his escorts took a step, and he lacked any ability to direct it elsewhere- but he knew what they looked like all the same. They were him, after all. Cast more in white, more in sync with their brother, but him, even still. Weren’t they all the same?  
  
Prime had invaded his mind, and temporarily severed his control of his body. He remained conscious and retained his passive senses, but now he was nothing more than a spectator to his own sentence. Hordak watched the metallic length of the floor as he was carried, knowing his destination even without looking up. The guards stopped for a moment, the whoosh of an automatic door filling the air as they left the hall, and entered the reconditioning chamber. Patiently, motionlessly, he waited as they opened one of the great, clear tubes, and fitted his body inside it.  
  
When they finished locking his wrists and ankles into the shackles of the device, and took a step back to allow the glass shell of the tube close around him, Hordak was able to clearly look at them for the first time. Like looking into a mirror: tall, slender… with pointed ears and red, intimidating fangs. Their eyes were the same expressionless green as his own had become, and they moved with robotic efficiency. They were perfect, so unlike a defect such as him. They felt none of his anger, his fear, or his anxiety; instead, they served their purpose without fail: extensions of Prime’s will, made flesh.  
  
One of the guards silently stepped away from the tube, taking his place before a great control panel. The mechanical keyboard jutted upward from a stand molded into the floor, offering up a series of buttons which flashed bright colors. He pushed the great red one in its center, then pulled a lever along the side. A beeping sound began to echo within the chamber that confined Hordak, vents which lined the glass cylinder sliding open and allowing a clear, gel-like fluid to begin pouring inside. Wave after wave of the gel flooded in, until he was submerged completely, and only then did the final component of the procedure come. Whip-like wires lashed from the top of his prison, carving paths through the gelatinous texture like a snake through snow. Each wire was tipped with a long, thin needle, and as they reached his body, each needle was forced into his flesh. Despite being submerged, he was able to breathe normally, though his breath remained even and calm regardless.

Reconditioning. The cure for those degenerates who proved unworthy of their place at Prime’s feet. Those who failed. Those who hesitated. Those who had the audacity to entertain, even a single time, the thought that they could possess anything which their brother could not rob them of. Grievous sins, all. Certainly deserving of death, but Prime was as merciful as he was powerful. Rather than death, he offered defects like Hordak a chance at rebirth. Within this tube, everything that Hordak was would be stripped away. Memories, emotions, experiences… ripped away like the layers of an onion, discarded until only the small, shriveled core remained, so that a perfect servant could be built around it.  
  
A sharp hiss, and the sound of air escaping a seal: the first round of injections was administered, followed by a flash of light as an electrical charge was sent through the gel, causing his body to tense in response. He could already feel it happening. His anger, his indignation, his desperation… He could feel those emotions which had seemed so strong mere moments ago suddenly start to dissipate. As the fluids pushed into his veins began to spread through his body, a warmth and calmness traveled through him alongside them. Wasn’t this for the best? Wasn’t this what he wanted? His defect would be remedied. He would be worthy again. Had that been what he wanted? It was already somewhat hard to remember. His memories of the time before he arrived at Etheria began to unravel and evaporate within his mind.

Despite his muted control of his body, he felt his arms tremble. Felt his eyes twitch and his heart race. He’d already been robbed of his anger… was this fear? What a strange sensation. No, not strange… familiar. This sensation had always been his companion, though he tried to hide from it- to shift it into rage. Fear of his own inadequacy. For as long as he’d been alive, he couldn’t escape the suspicion that, no matter how he may protest to the contrary, he truly was garbage. Useless. He kept his mind and body in motion, constantly scheming and fighting because only by distracting himself could he keep those thoughts from overwhelming him.  
  
So then, why not submit? Those thoughts would vanish alongside everything else soon. Perhaps he would finally know peace. He had lead a hollow, empty life. He’d never known success, never inspired the loyalty of another… he deserved to be reconditioned. His failure was the reason Shadow weaver was disloyal. The reason for Catra’s endless scheming and insolence. It was his fault that Entrapta-  
  
A soft wail of pain suddenly escaped his throat, though the sound was muffled by the gel now filling his lungs, and he could feel the tips of his fingers return to his control, allowing him close his hands into fists as his lips parted. Entrapta! In an instant he realized that his fear in this moment was connected not to himself, but to that name, though his emotionally compromised state made it so hard to understand why.  
  
“I mean, I did consider the alternative… That Catra had been lying to you this whole time...” Hordak replayed the voice in his head. Double Trouble had continued to talk for a while after saying those words, but Hordak had stopped listening to them by that point. He’d felt as though some outside force had lifted an incredible weight from his chest, only to raise that weight still higher off the ground and then drop it on him again. Entrapta hadn’t betrayed him! Catra was lying. In the aftermath of the revelation he’d shed the first tears he’d allowed himself to cry since he’d begun his conquest of Etheria. Tears of frustration, anguish, rage, but, most of all, relief.

Logically, it should have come as no surprise that Catra deceived him. He had caught her in the act of doing so before. The slippery little feline was as deceitful as she was insolent. Yet, when she told him Entrapta had betrayed him, he accepted it instantly. How could he not? He was defective. He was unworthy of warmth or recognition from anyone. That he had allowed himself to dream that he deserved someone like her in his life was the ultimate mark of his uselessness. Of course she betrayed him! If she hadn’t, then that would mean…  
  
Another hiss. Another sigh of air, and another wave of radiating heat entering his body. Reconditioning! It was time for Prime to rob him of still more. Being reminded of Entrapta helped Hordak to realize why he was afraid. When Double Trouble told him of Catra’s scheme, for just a moment, he’d felt hope. If this procedure were to be completed, perhaps he would no longer be useless… perhaps he would finally belong with his brother… but he would lose his hope. The thought of being returned to the way he was before frightened him. He wanted to go back, it was true, but not to Prime. He wanted to go back there, to that place.  
  
As the injection ran its course, he could feel more of his past being eaten away and evaporating into a white haze of nothingness. He resisted the sensation with all the will he could muster, forcing himself to remember. He thought back to that day, the first full day he and Entrapta had begun to work on the portal together.  
  


***  
  
She had pushed her way through the Fright Zone’s ventilation system, as was her wont, and popped out of the exhaust vent over his head suddenly. The surprise of it had nearly given him a heart attack, and he had opened his mouth to admonish her, but the petite girl swung herself around to the ground, looked up at him… and smiled. The gesture had trapped his voice in his throat immediately.  
  
“Hordak! I moved the last of my equipment into the sanctum, we’re officially lab partners! Ah, I just know we’re going to get this portal up and running. I mean, I’m pretty good at getting things running when there’s just one of me, and now there’s two! Well, not to say that you’re me, but you know, I dunno, this is all so new to me. Workin’ with someone else, and all.” She had been suspending herself in the air by her pigtails, as she spoke, in an effort to somewhat bridge the incredible difference in size between them. As she finished speaking, she slowly lowered her feet to the ground, bringing the end of one of the pillars of hair up and extending it toward him, as if to offer a handshake. “Really looking forward to working with you!”  
  
Standing at her normal height, she barely reached his waist. She was looking up at him, her bright magenta eyes glowing with excitement as the smile on her lips grew still wider. Hordak’s gaze met hers in kind, his lips stretched thin in confusion and a light blush on his cheeks. He had been alive for three decades. In all that time he could not recall a single instant where anyone had ever greeted him with a smile. She was always so earnest and sincere that he found himself incapable of remaining angry with her.  
  
“I… concede to finding the promise of a competent subordinate refreshing. However, I will have you refrain from popping in so… unexpectedly.” He said after taking a moment to clear his throat and shifting his weight awkwardly. At the time, the warmth he’d felt in his chest defied explanation. He’d never known it before, and wouldn’t begin to realize it until the feeling had been lost.  
  
***  
  
Another shock was sent through the gel, rousing Hordak from his thoughts and returning him to reality. How much time had passed? How much had been taken from him? It was so hard for him to remember anything, now. So hard for him to feel anything. His arrival at Etheria had vanished into smoke, all those years were gone. His second-in-command before Catra… what was her name? It didn’t matter. He didn’t care about any of that, if Prime desired to rob him of it, he would offer it without resistance, but…  
  
“P-please.” He found his voice again. It was weak, lost within the gel that entombed him, and each movement of his lips felt like it was weighed down by lead, but he had spoken all the same. He was able to turn his head slightly, and had regained some movement in his arms now. The guards who had escorted him to the Reconditioning Room had left him alone. There was no one to hear his plea, but he didn’t care. The backs of his eyes felt heavy, and tears pulled at them, his heart was racing. He lacked the energy to try to disguise his despair as anger. “Please… don’t take them from me...”  
  
***  
  
Hordak and Entrapta were seated, side by side, carefully twining an array of wires into a bundle. They’d secured their power source, and they’d found a frame stable enough to resist the incredible energy a portal would output, so now it was just a matter of connecting the two. It was tedious work, but for some reason, he no longer minded tedium. He and Entrapta had been working together for more than a week now, and at some point in that span of time, his work had gone from an obsessive burden to a pleasure. He felt complete when she was near him; his mission, his brother, and his horde felt so far away and unimportant. They tended to divide duties wordlessly, moving to coordinate and assist one another without need of planning. He’d never felt so in sync with another person before.  
  
A sudden warmth on his outer thigh broke his chain of thought, causing him to stir from his task. He looked down to find Entrapta resting her head on his lap. Her eyes were closed, cheek pressed against his leg, and one of her gloved hands lay flat across his knee. This had become a regular occurrence for them. They shared an intense focus on any task they set themselves upon. Often, they would forget to eat until the weakness in their limbs grew too intense for them to continue operating their tools, and ignore their exhaustion until sleep took itself from them by force. A couple times they’d fallen asleep standing up, bodies leaning against one another for support. Indeed, seeing her like this served to remind him of how tired he was, too, and his eyelids began to protest remaining open.

Still, he wanted to remain like this, just a moment longer. He sat down the bundle of wire he’d been working with and hesitantly drew one of his hands down toward her. He gently rested his palm atop her head, drawing his fingertips through her hair slowly. The act elicited a sleepy purr from the tiny girl, who nuzzled against him absently and shifted in her sleep. The hair around his fingers twirled and closed around the digits, as if giving them an embrace.  
  
Hordak had no idea what compelled him to do this. Her presence in his sanctum- in his life- brought him such joy, and when he tried to find the words to express it, to her or to himself, they would always elude him. Letting her rest like this, if only for a time, felt like the only method he had of sharing his appreciation.  
  
***  
  
Nearly everything was gone, now. Who he was before, what he’d built, what he’d lost… His mind had been torn asunder. All that remained was this final fragment of his life. A portion of time which his heart had wrapped itself around in desperation, like a parent attempting to shield their child from an explosion.  
  


As the drugs in his system began to make him feverish, his senses began to swirl and distort. He stared blankly forward, and as he did the empty air seemed to twist and writhe, gradually filling itself with the image of Entrapta. It was as if she had appeared before, and he wanted to feel joy for it, but something about the image made it impossible. She stood rigidly before him, her long hair sagging listlessly on either side of her petite frame. There was no warmth in her large, beautiful eyes, only an empty gaze, and her face was placid and emotionless. Seeing her like this caused him to grit his fanged teeth, a grunt of frustration escaping him.

  
“Entrapta, it’s not fair.” He spoke again, his voice stronger now, though it began to break and waver as the dam behind his eyes broke at last, allowing his tears to fall freely. “Why do I finally find the words when it’s too late to say them? We were together for such a short while, and I wasted so much of it trying to push you away. I’m sorry. I wanted more than anything to let you know… the time we spent together, it was so brief it could be counted in days… but those days were the first and only time I’d ever known happiness.”  
  
They were all that remained of him now. He gripped each memory the two of them had forged together as tightly as he could, resisting the pull of chemicals destroying him. It was like trying to hold onto water, though. He could feel them slowly leaking from his grip, and it filled him with a primal panic. He jerked his arms, attempting to bring his fists down against the glass. No matter how he struggled, though, he could only move slowly and deliberately, and couldn’t free his arms from the restraints that kept them bound above his head. He couldn’t focus anymore. The information from his senses was a blur, and it seemed that he relived each memory as it was stolen from him. He kept his eyes focused on her image on the other side of the glass, hoping it might give him the strength to continue his resistance.  
  
“Can I ask you a question? you’re the only person who saw any value in me, so perhaps you would know.” He inquired of the specter, hanging his head low. What had begun as tears flowing from his eyes was now open weeping. His body wracked itself with sobs each time he inhaled. “If, for just a fleeting time, I had wished from the bottom of my heart… To trade all my yesterdays, and every tomorrow between now and my dying day… and to accept in exchange the chance to remain in that moment, with you, forever… would that be proof that I was worthless, after all?”  
  
However, the specter of Entrapta gave him no answer, and his will could not resist the procedure for long. One by one, the handful of memories he held so fondly were stolen from him. The anxiety and desperation this elicited grew to a fever pitch, and then began to vanish. First he lost her voice, then her mannerisms, and then her face. With every passing moment he lost another day with her, his anxiety giving way to a deep, pervasive sorrow.  
  
Soon, only he remained. He and the specter of Entrapta his feverish mind had cast before himself. At some point in the last few seconds his eyes had closed, and he had to use all his willpower to force them open. He narrowed his gaze, looking curiously at the image before him.  
  
“Who… are you?” He asked the stranger, though, of course, she did not answer. He looked down at his chest. His exoskeleton had been badly damaged somewhere. The crystal which powered it had been torn out. None of this knowledge remained within Hordak, yet some lingering trace of the emotion behind it tingled within his heart. He returned his gaze upward.  
  
“Why does looking at you make me feel so...” However, the image vanished before him, as if it were made of smoke. The room, the tube, himself… he lost sight of everything around him as an incredible darkness consumed his senses. His eyes fell shut and would not open, his body became still once more. Everything had become empty and quiet.  
  
“Entrapta...” That sound, the meaning of which he no longer understood, was the final bit of defiance he could muster. The final remnants of the defective being known as ‘Hordak’ vanished, like his tears into the fluid surrounding his body, and the reconditioning was complete.


	2. Unconditional Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hordak is no longer Hordak. Horde Prime seeks to share his love with Etheria. Entrapta confronts herself in the ruins of the place dearest to her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm still feeling the shipper feelings strong, so I decided to go ahead and make this into a short(ish) saga. Converting it from a oneshot character piece into a more traditional narrative may highlight a few of my weaknesses when it comes to prose, but what I lack in technical efficiency, I like to think I make up for with passion! Passion and character tears! This should be the last note, so... hey! Thanks for listening.

“I see! So that’s how he orchestrated things? Fascinating. My little brother may have forgotten himself, but in his own flawed way, he created his empire in my image.” Horde Prime chuckled to himself. The great alien continued to recline upon his throne, looking down at the guests he was kind enough to play host to. Glimmer and Catra stood side by side upon the platform beneath him, occasionally sharing uncomfortable glances with one another. In the hour or so that had passed since Hordak was dragged off, Prime had amused himself by asking questions of this world, ‘Etheria’, and Catra answered each one.  
  
“Yeah, well, it was the only Horde I knew... So I don’t know anything about that.” Catra looked toward the floor, gripping her left elbow in her right hand. She didn’t want to talk to him at all, and if she had to, she knew she should at least play at deception. War against him had already started, and she could tell he wouldn’t be as easy to manipulate as Hordak had been. She’d hated Hordak, but the more time she spent with him, the more she realized that he was cut from the same cloth she was. They were defects who would never be good enough, and sharing that in common meant she always knew exactly how to twist his arm.

This man, though? Hordak’s much exalted big brother? There was a strange aura about him. She looked up at him again, and his four eyes returned her stare. The unblinking gaze of the two smaller eyes which wreathed his central right socket seemed to pierce her, causing a tremor to come unbidden to her spine. Horde Prime rested his chin upon his palm, slouching back with one leg laying over the arm of his seat and a smug, condescending smile drawn across his bat-like face. He was completely relaxed. He held her so far beneath his contempt that the notion she could ever be remotely dangerous to him wasn’t even worth consideration.   
  
Thinking about it pissed her off. Or, rather, it would have… if it had happened yesterday. Catra’s emotions were just a touch frazzled, after the events of her day. So instead of protest, she merely sighed deeply, and ran a clawed hand through her disheveled hair, smoothing it back into place.   
  
“Oh, I should think not! Rest assured, it’s not my intent to make primitive life forms feel shame for their ignorance. Ignorance can be remedied by listening to your betters. Hmm… but you, your highness? I hadn’t taken you for the taciturn sort. You’ve scarcely breathed a word since you arrived. Are you unwell?”  
  
“I, um...” Glimmer’s posture snapped straight at the sudden attention, her eyes widening. Like Catra, her day had been emotional enough even before Prime’s arrival, and trying to wrap her mind around everything happening right now was only adding more strain to her already stressed psyche. Etheria had always been alone in the universe. The lands she’d known were the totality of existence for her, and Bright Moon had always been their center. Stars, other worlds… EMPIRES spanning those entire worlds? She remembered Bow’s dads talking about such things in theory, but now?  
  
“I’m fine, uh, sir.” She said, flailing her arms a bit. She looked over to Catra, as if to implore her for help, but the feline merely shot her a bemused look in reply. This elicited a long, loud laugh from Horde Prime. A deep, echoing sound that seemed to sink into their bodies. It was genuine and amused, but had no kindness in it. He shifted his legs in front of him, leaning forward to rest an arm upon his knee as he looked down at them more closely.  
  
“What is your name, Queen of Etheria?” He asked, all four of his eyes focused squarely on her. The small girl did her best to endure the intensity of his gaze, keeping her posture straight as she looked back at him. She wished her friends were here. This would be so much easier with the Best Friend Squad.

“Glimmer.” She responded. She’d hoped it would come out strong and confident. Unfortunately between her racing heart and uneven breath her voice was barely above a whisper.  
  
“Beautiful! Well, Glimmer, I’m about to impart some wisdom upon you, a gift to welcome you into your rightful place as my vassal. I trust you’ll take it to heart. Ignorance can be remedied, but failure to listen when your Emperor gives you counsel is stupidity… and the cure for stupidity is much more painful.”

He stood from his throne, and began to walk down toward them.

“There are hundreds of creatures across just this galaxy alone, did you know that? Some are so beautiful you’d think them angels, some are so terrifying you’d swear they were demons, and still more look so much like you that you would insist they were born just next door, rather than half the galaxy away. With hundreds of thousands of species -trillions of individual oraganisms- you would think that the universe would be a diverse place, but in truth, no matter where you’re from, what you are, or who you think you are...”  
  
He walked down the narrow stairway separating the platform of his throne from the audience chamber itself, closing the distance between himself and Glimmer. He was so much taller than she was that from this close he towered over her, his eyes moving across her face as if he were a lion appraising a lamb. Despite herself, Glimmer shrank down slightly, her fight-or-flight instinct sending a surge of adrenaline through her body. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wanted to run away. To see her friends… if she even had any friends left.   
  
“There are two kinds of people in all of creation, and only two.” He finally came to a stop, so close to her that his abdomen blocked her entire view. He drew the sharp, metal plate covering his fingertip across her cheek, causing the girl to clench her teeth in response. “There are those who were born to obey, and there are those who were born to command. It is a caste selected for you from the moment of your birth, and no amount of struggle can change it. All suffering in the entire universe only happens because people try to deny their proper place in life.”  
  
Glimmer focused her gaze, the whites of her eyes seeming to ripple as tears filled them. She had never wanted to replace her mother. She’d never really thought about the fact that she would be the queen some day, growing up. She chaffed under her mother’s rules, as any teenager would, but never honestly allowed herself to consider a time when they wouldn’t be a part of her life. All she wanted was to adventure with her friends. To save her kingdom in her own way. Still, when push came to shove, no one respected her. No one trusted her. Even those closest to her had talked over her and acted against her.   
  
The welling tears began to fall now, enhancing the sparkle that always covered her cheeks. When it had mattered most, she proved she was unworthy of their trust. She had ruined everything. It was her fault this guy was even here right now. He came because of the energy from the weapon she had activated. The weapon Adora and Bow had insisted she deactivate. The weapon that nearly killed her and everyone she called a friend. She didn’t have the right to call herself a queen! Prime drew his fingertip across her cheekbone with impressive dexterity, wiping away her tears without breaking her skin.  
  
“Now, now, child. My intent was not to criticize, it was to enlighten. The burden of one who rules is to ease the suffering of those who serve him. You have the makings of a royal, yet, Queen Glimmer. As the vassal of Horde Prime, you will shine more brilliantly than you ever thought possible! I have high hopes for you: the weapon at the core of your home will be the tool with which I bring the blessing of peace and order to all who resist my empire.” To Catra’s surprise, he cut his glance back toward her after this.

“Is it not tragic? How lesser lifeforms are almost invariably the architects of their own misery? In my infinite mercy, I free them from their own ignorance. Such is my ‘noblesse oblige’- the sign of my unconditional love for all life in the universe.” Catra hissed in response, leaping back and baring her claws. For just a moment, Double Trouble’s face popped into her head. She recomposed herself almost as quickly as she’d panicked, and Prime dismissed her movements with his usual condescending smirk. Enduring his trash talk was the price that had to be paid to keep herself and Sparkles alive, right now, but there was something about him that terrified her. It really did feel as if he could stare right through her.

“I do not dislike your ferocity, Kitten, but you were wise to sheath your claws in my presence. Commit the error of losing my favor, and you’ll wish that I had killed you.” The entire time he’d been speaking with them, he had done so with a calm, authoritative tone, as if he were a teacher giving a lecture to schoolchildren. This threat, however, was delivered sharply, his eyes narrowing as their gaze continued to bore right through her. Catra swallowed hard and nodded, but inwardly she wanted to scream in frustration. She was so tired of dealing with people like this. If Prime sensed her inner anger, he made no show of it, instead finishing with, “Case in point...”

The door to the command room slid open, and the two guards he had sent out with Hordak returned. This time they were accompanied by what, at first, appeared to be a third of their number. Like the guards, his movements were precise and robotic. He traveled in their wake, matching their rhythm perfectly as they entered the room and moved to stand before Prime, and then joined them in standing at attention.  
  
While his hair had been black and wild when he’d arrived, it was now the same white as his comrades, and combed to perfection atop his head. The blue of his skin had been powdered white, with only the varicose veins of his shoulders retaining their original color, but these were now covered by the same white mantle as his fellow clones, which draped about his shoulders and flowed out behind him as he moved. However, he did not wear the proper armor of a Horde soldier. Instead, the exoskeleton he had been wearing before was repainted in white and gray, the colors of the Prime Horde. With the exception of the empty chamber in its center, where its power source was meant to be installed, he looked exactly like his brethren now, but it seemed more that they had covered up his true self, rather than replacing it outright. Prime was not amused by this.   
  
Prime smiled apologetically at Glimmer before turning his attention toward the newcomers. “Ah, and here he is! You’re looking better already, little brother, although, something seems amiss?” The rightmost guard bowed his head without emotion, bringing his hand to the center of his chest.  
  
“The unit’s body is more decrepit than was anticipated, Lord Prime. Were we to separate it from the exoskeleton, it would lose the ability to move under its own power.” The guard explained. Catra’s ears twitched as she overheard the exchange. They didn’t just look like Hordak. They sounded like him, too.

“Hmph, you insist upon trying to stand out, don’t you? You’re this dependent upon that armor of yours? No wonder you were so fond of the person who gave it to you. Well, no matter. This will be fine for now. I will have you at my side, to witness the conquest of Etheria.” The distinct loathing that this nameless general was capable of inspiring within Horde Prime was quite fascinating to him. He was usually detached when interacting with lower life forms, but this one, in particular, earned his ire. Reconditioning had been less the act of educating a fool and more an act of sadistic pleasure for Prime. He would keep him alive for as long as possible, ceaselessly robbing him of everything he would ever grow to value, until the strange, petty wrath was finally satisfied.  
  
Still, the clone formerly known as Hordak said nothing, remaining as still as a statue until Prime had finished speaking, at which point he simply nodded his understanding. How many times had he had to reset him like this? Prime moved over to him, resting his palm against his forehead, and used the point of contact to dig his way through the clone’s mind. There was nothing… placid emptiness, exactly as a servant’s mind should be. Prime flashed a fang-filled smile, and raised a hand into the air, snapping his fingers.

All at once, the people in the room were bathed in a green light, evaporating into the air as they were transported back to the planet’s surface. The course was set for the castle in Bright Moon.

***

  
“I was standing right up there, and she was right here!” Bow exclaimed. He and Entrapta were standing in the ruins Hordak’s sanctum. The pale, purple metal that made up the interior of the Fright Zone base had been torn asunder by some repetitive, explosive force, with entire sections of the walls and ceilings now reduced to rubble on the floor. As he spoke he gestured from the place they were standing to a gap in the wall where a tall ventilation pipe could be seen. “Hordak was looming over her, prepared to do her in with the most unspeakable of all weapons- a club!- but I ‘bapped’ him with a Stun Arrow, then I tried to zip-line over on a Rope Arrow, but before I got across there was this green light, and then… well, poof!”   
  
The pair of them surveyed the area. Shattered computer screens lined the walls, the roof in this portion of the sanctum had been entirely ripped off, and the area where Glimmer was last seen was, functionally, a deep crater where the proper floor had once been. What kind of battle had happened here?  
  
“It doesn’t look like there was anything around here that could have triggered a transport. Teleportation initiated from offsight, maybe? Oh! I wish I could see how they did it.” Offered Entrapta in reply, though she spoke more slowly than was her custom. She had drawn down her mask the instant they’d arrived, and her voice was muffled slightly by the insect-shaped barrier. The four of them- Bow, Entrapta, Swift Wind, and Adora- had decided to retrace their steps to see if they could uncover where Glimmer had vanished to. They split up upon their return to the Fright Zone, with Bow leading Entrapta to Hordak’s sanctum.  
  
“I couldn’t hear what he said, but I think Hordak knew what was happening. If the Horde was responsible, then this is probably tech. There’s a point where the line between tech and magic disappears, and when we get there, no on on Etheria understands it better than you do. So Entrapta, please. Is there anything you can do to find out where Glimmer went?” Bow was more than a little frustrated by how powerless he felt. His best friend had been ripped away, just before he could be reunited with her, and he had so much he’d wanted to tell her. To apologize for.

Entrapta turned to look at him, the tiny girl peering up at him from behind the round, green eyes of her mask.   
  
“I’ll do what I can, but, hey, Bow? Would you mind if I looked around on my own for a while? I don’t really get it, but being here feels weird. I dunno… kinda prickly and warm at the same time, ya know?” The request caught Bow by surprise. He’d been so caught up in his own feelings, he’d forgotten that Entrapta had belonged to the horde until recently. She was probably going through the exact same emotions he was.   
  
“I’m sorry, Entrapta.” He offered quietly, “I wanted your help so badly that I didn’t stop to think about how coming back here might make you feel. I’ll go ahead and check back in with the other team. Listen, if you need to talk to someone, I’m here. Adora and Glimmer too. You’re our friend.” He remembered how close she had come to just giving up on everything when she was trapped on beast island. He wasn’t quite as smart as she was, and he was lucky to have found a good friend early in his life, but he felt like he could empathize with her loneliness.  
  
“You’re sweet, Bow. I promise I’ll catch up with you soon.” Her voice was light and cheerful. The tip of her right pigtail darted out like a tendril, laying itself upon his shoulder affectionately, and she nodded reassuringly. Bow smiled warmly in reply, but also noticed that she still refused to raise her helmet. He looked from her, to the ruins of the lab, and back again. He couldn’t force her to open up if she wasn’t ready. Understanding that was another part of what it meant to be a friend. He returned her nod with one of his own, then turned back for the entrance and headed out along the hall.   
  
Entrapta listened as his footsteps drew further and further away, and only after they had fallen silent did she finally return her attention to the sanctum. She wanted to believe Bow, of course. Her desire for what he said to be true was the only thing strong enough to break the vines that had kept her shackled back then… but wanting something to be true and being able to believe it were two separate issues. She hoisted her body’s weight up on the tips of her hair, using her pigtails to spring herself up toward shattered ventilation pipes that littered the now-porous roof. How many times had she traveled through these? It hadn’t been that long ago, and yet, seeing the state they were in now, she couldn’t help being saddened by it. She pulled herself up and investigated one of the great blast holes that had been ripped into the wall.  
  
“Wait a minute! I know this blast pattern! The steel was heated to the point where it melted away. A weapon with the power to do that...” That was it! Focus on the available data. Push the uncomfortable feelings down until she forgot about them, like she always did. It wasn’t hard… her train of thought was prone to jump tracks multiple times in a span, and she had always hyper-focused on things she found interesting… of which there were many. Recently, though, it was getting harder and harder for her to put out of her mind. She found that, if she allowed her thoughts to slow, even for just an instant, she would feel those doubts and insecurities clawing at her soul.

People were always friendly with her. In a way, it may have been better for her if they’d been more cruel instead: at least if they shunned and dismissed her immediately, she wouldn’t get her hopes up. For a while, it would seem normal. Perhaps they were uncomfortable around her, but she had no talent for picking up on subtext, so she could never tell. That’s why it was always her own fault she ended up abandoned, right? If she was a better friend, they would have stayed. Other people were her greatest failure.

“Waaaah! I’m doing it again! Focus, Entrapta! Now, if my calculations are correct- and they almost certainly are- the weapon that caused all this damage was portable. Some kind of cannon. Still, to get firepower like this, it would have to have been… but it can’t be. We hadn’t even developed a prototype yet before I’d left. Unless… Hordak...”  
  
Her breath hitched and her thoughts were disrupted once again. Why did even just thinking about him hurt so bad? She already knew who she was. She’d made her peace with it. She was the ‘friend’ others only called upon when they needed her help. She was someone whose company could be tolerated… perhaps even appreciated… but would never be enjoyed. Never sought after. That was fine though! She liked to help people. Besides, it was so hard to interact with people anyway. It was frustrating having to repeat herself over and over again just to be understood.

The ventilation system was too ravaged by the cannon fire for her to safely travel through, so instead she swung from pipe to pipe by her hair, eyes scanning the rooms she traveled through for any clues she may have missed. The trail of carnage culminated in the reactor room, where she happened upon the shrapnel of a destroyed weapon in the entryway. She allowed herself to drop down beside it, mindful to give a wide berth to the lava that flowed around the walkways within. Once she reached the ground, her hair tendrils lurched forward, encircling a few scraps of the metal and drawing them up before her eyes. This was the weapon. The material was the same as his exoskeleton.

“He finished it! He finished it, and it was destroyed...” She said thoughtfully. She scanned the room carefully. Large, long claw marks were carved into the walls and floors at set intervals, many immediately to the side of where a large blast had torn a hole into the steel. “… by Catra?”

Oof. More pain. This was different from before, though. When Entrapta thought of Hordak, the pain it brought to her chest was wistful and melancholy. When she thought of Catra, it was the pain of betrayal. Normally, when her old friends abandoned her, she could try to think of some way she was inadequate. Perhaps she was too absorbed in her work to notice she was annoying them, for instance. With Catra, though? What had she ever done to Catra? Catra and Scorpia had taken her in when everyone else had given up on her. She thought they were her friends. Real friends, this time! Then Catra suddenly seemed to hate being around her, but that was okay, because at least she had Hordak. That was when Catra had…  
  
Entrapta groaned in frustration, grabbing her head and shaking it roughly, causing her pigtails to spin about her like a helicopter’s blade. It had been getting harder to hide from these thoughts, sure, but it still hadn’t been THIS hard, before. Something about being here. This place had been her home for a little while. It was the place where she was the happiest she’d ever been. She shook her head one last time, but stopped when she caught the glint of something metallic on the floor deeper inside the reactor room. This piqued her curiosity, and she headed in to investigate.  
  
Her first thought was that it was still more of the cannon, perhaps sent flying by whatever attack had destroyed it, but now she could see that was incorrect. It was a complete piece of metal, diamond-shaped and pink, which fit comfortably into her palm… even before she had even finished investigating she knew what it was. Even if she lived for another hundred years, she would never forget it. It had been one of her most prized pieces of First Ones tech, and she’d made the decision to make it the centerpiece of the gift she’d given for her lab partner. She let the small piece of metal rest in her hand for a moment, staring at it dumbfounded.

She brought her free hand, trembling, to the mask which had been shielding her face since she had first arrived in the Fright Zone. When she was feeling vulnerable, when she was feeling confused, she found that she took comfort in having that barrier down… one small means of shielding her feelings from the world outside. Her fingers gripped the carapace, and lifted it up, allowing her large, magenta eyes to inspect the relic in her hand. Tears fell in unbroken streams down her cheeks, and she cleared them with her hair as she looked down at the lettering. The message she’d left for him.

“I wanted to see you again.” She said with a trembling voice, blinking in an attempt to stem the flow of tears. She gripped the metal firmly but gently in her hand and pressed her fist against her chest. “I thought if I saw you again, maybe I’d finally understand.” Hordak was special. He was the one person who understood her the first time she spoke... the one friend who hadn’t abandoned her.

“Entrapta! Where are you? We have to hurry! Glimmer is back at Bright Moon, and it sounds like she’s in danger!” Bow’s concerned shout echoed down the hall, quite a distance away. She’d lost track of where she was, during her hunt.   
  
“Oh no! I’m on my way!” She pushed off of the ground with her hair to help herself back onto her feet as she scrambled out. Honestly, she was relieved-that Glimmer was safe, of course-but equally so to have an excuse to leave this place. She didn’t like thinking about things like this.

She tucked the First Ones’ relic into her pocket carefully, and began to retrace the route she had taken, drawing her way down the halls by her hair like some manner of troll doll. As she passed through the sanctum for the last time, she paused to give it one last look: The overturned tables and computers where she worked with another person for the first time. The shattered computers they’d used to track their data. The now-backless throne where they had sat talking for hours at a time. She hadn’t been there for long, but at some point it had become one of the most precious places in the world to her… and now it was gone.

She lingered just a second longer, patiently enduring those confusing feelings as they strangling her heart like a vice, and drew her arm over her eyes one final time to dry up the last of her tears. Then, wordlessly, she turned and vanished down the hall toward her friends.


	3. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Privately, Prime is a bit of a ponce.
> 
> However often you reset him to factory default, Hordak is gonna Hordak.
> 
> Entrapta has feelings, too.
> 
> A chapter to bridge the gap between tears and love.

Bright Moon had surrendered without even mounting a proper attempt at resistance. Etheria was, for all intents and purposes, a colony of the great Prime Horde. She-ra was gone, perhaps forever, and the horde of Etheria had been wiped from existence. It seemed like so much. Enough to have filled years of history. Yet, it had all transpired in a matter of days, and those days were now a month past. Now, Prime was everywhere.

From Bright Moon to the former Fright Zone. From Salineas to the Kingdom of Snows, every street and every castle was subject to patrols of Horde soldiers. Emotionless batmen who marched in lockstep, with each set of eyes and ears reporting directly to Horde Prime. The Princess Alliance was trapped under this nigh-constant surveillance, and most of the populace had abandoned any hope of ever escaping. This enemy was too powerful, too numerous, and too well organized.

The Horde of Etheria was strong, too, but unfocused. Hordak had spent most of his days sequestered in his lab, giving naught but a passing care for the act of conquest. Catra was more hands-on in her approach, but also too emotionally invested, often seeking petty, personal gratification against those who wronged her rather than seeking the decisive victory.

Horde Prime possessed neither of those faults. His army was of one mind, and the focus of that mind was conquest. His arrival served to show just how fragmented and lacking in organization the Princess Alliance had been, and this swift victory was a sign of how futile it was to even dream of struggling against him.

Oh, Prime didn’t doubt for a moment that they still schemed against him. However omnipresent he may make his forces, they would find ways to communicate with one another. Private moments to send secret messages and hatch desperate plots. Lesser life forms never changed. As he often mused: they were ever the architects of their own misery. They never learned from the example of others… no, each insisted upon making the same mistakes in the same ways as those before them, and it always fell to him to teach each of them, the hard way, that the gulf which separates those destined to rule from those destined to obey was insurmountable.

On this day, the great Emperor sat upon the throne of Bright Moon, as had become his custom in the weeks since he’d taken up residence on Etheria. Glimmer remained the nominal queen of the realm, under his guidance, but the position was largely ceremonial. He used her as a mouthpiece to save him the annoyance of interacting with the lowborn more than necessary. Outside of the times when she was being utilized in that capacity, he took the throne room for his own, and could often be seen reclining in the seat, accompanied by his praetorian guard.

“The former king of this land has been on the move. We have reason to believe the princesses are using him to coordinate their resistance to our rule, though to what end we are not certain. Shall I dispatch a unit to attempt to corner him?” Prime’s general was kneeling before him, green eyes beaming with confident pride as he looked up at him. In recent weeks, this general’s manner of speaking had grown more natural, and- though it was still in small, subtle ways- he had begun to alter his appearance slightly compared to his peers. Little things like allowing his bangs to slip down over his forehead, or allowing his naturally blue skin to barely show beneath the white powder that colored his cheeks.

“Ah, yes, ‘Micah’,” Mused Prime with a yawn. It was no small compliment for him to remember the name of such an ill-bred creature, but that one’s magical abilities were perhaps worthy of being put to his use. He and that masked woman… perhaps coming to this backwoods planet was a worthwhile detour, after all. “Let him do as he pleases, for now. Getting this weapon back online is the next step in our path of conquest, and doing so is what I want our energy focused toward. If the worms delight to crawl through the dirt as we do, then so be it. They are beneath our consideration.”

“But Lord Bro-” The general began, but Prime cut him off curtly.  
  
“I must be exhausted,” He said with an icy chuckle. “Surely I didn’t just hear you consider contradicting me?”   
  
“No… Of course not.” The general exhaled sharply and drew his gaze down to the ground, bowing more deeply, and pressing his forehead to the ground.

“Lovely. Now then, report your progress on recreating the key.” As Prime spoke, his general shifted, pushing himself back up onto his knees.

“As you commanded, I have been directly supervising the Princess ‘Entrapta’ in the reconstruction effort. Entrapta is… exceptional.” His ears elevated themselves and twitched slightly as he mentioned her name, his chest puffing out beneath his armor, as if speaking of her talents brought him personal pride. “Despite being a princess of this primitive world, I have the utmost confidence that she will succeed in this task.”

The entire time he spoke, Prime watched his body language with a sort of amused indifference. He knew of Entrapta. The name and face had flashed in his mind when he dug into the memories of ‘Hordak’. His little brother was more smitten than he thought, to have grown so attached to her across twice. That was good, though. His plan wouldn’t work if things had played out any other way.

“My, such high praise. That you have such faith in her is an ease to the very worry of my soul! I will have you return to that task immediately, then. I anticipate good news soon.”

“Lord brother...” The clone could barely restrain his smile. He was so close! If he could just accomplish this mission, then he knew Prime would acknowledge him as worthy… “We will not fail you!” He pushed himself up onto his feet, bowing a final time before leaving. Prime watched the clone slowly move to entrance of the throne room. Saw the great double-doors push wide, and then close again.

When he was sure he had been left alone, Prime leaped to his feet an unleashed a guttural, primal roar. He turned toward the throne upon which he’d been sitting and slammed one of his great fists into one of the arms. There was a thunderous crack as the stone shattered from the force of the blow, sending a chunk of the throne flying across the room.

“How many times must this farce repeat itself, ‘little brother’? Three repetitions is the peak of comedy. By the fourth, the joke is stale!” He half-muttered, half-growled as he paced back and forth rapidly, trying in vain to steady his breathing. He had been working diligently to hide this rage from others, but the more he had to observe that defect behaving like… that!… the more the calm disposition that usually came so naturally to him began to tax his self control.

It should not be possible for his clones to behave like this. To speak out of turn. To harbor personal ambitions. They were a legion he crafted to serve as extensions of his will, and left to their own devices, they had no sense of free will or individuality. His little brother, however?   
  
Prime took a long, deep breath, holding it a moment before releasing it, and stared down at the damaged throne. He could still remember the emotion he’d felt when his clone had spoken to him for the first time. The defect had the audacity to appear before him, unbidden, and express a desire to please him.

‘You are my Lord Brother. My Prime!’ He had declared, smiling boldly, ‘I will do all in my power to assist and protect you!’

At the time, Prime was ashamed to recall, he had stared at him in dumbstruck awe. When he realized what had just happened, he felt something strange… as though the blood in his veins had been cut with ice. Anxiety had crept into the back of his mind, causing him to tense his entire body. For the first time in his long, glorious existence, Horde Prime felt fear.   
  
A clone, motivated by love for his master, and yearning for his acknowledgment. To be loved by one of these… things… was as unthinkable as to be hated by one. They should have been mere automata! He had overseen and produced thousands of generations of clones, and this had been the first time he’d encountered one who expressed emotions. For one to gain sentience was no mere oversight: free will was against the purpose of the entire process he used to create them. For it to appear, even once, in a specimen, several things would have needed to go wrong all at once, and all in a certain way. Like life spontaneously forming from nonliving materiel.

Needless to say, Prime had him reconditioned immediately.

That was the first time, but far from the last. Each time he reset the clone, his personality would fade, and he would return for a time to his intended state, but each time the defect would manifest itself again, even more swiftly. Worse still, if Prime allowed him to remain in the company of other clones for an extended period of time, the same defect would gradually begin to manifest within them, as well. The hideous, defective thing was a threat to his order. His existence was an aberration Prime failed to predict. The logical action would be to destroy him, and yet Prime couldn’t bring himself to do so.

In all of the universe, Horde Prime was the sole perfect being. The man born to rule over those born to rule. His pride was the force that would shape all of creation, and his image was the form it would be crafted into. The notion that anything could occur within his domain that he was not able to foresee- the thought that any force, much less something he created with his own two hands, could make him experience fear- was beyond consideration. To cull his little brother would be to acknowledge the potential for threat that he posed, and the tremendous pride of a ruler would never allow such a thing.

Well, not directly, anyway. After the first reconditioning, Prime had begun to send him on ever more dangerous missions. He refused to acknowledge his threat by killing him directly, but if the clone happened to perish because he was too incompetent to survive a task he was given, then surely he could blame no one but himself? Perhaps owing to his ambition and loyalty, the defect was remarkably capable as an officer, and over time he’d risen to the rank of general within the forces of the Horde. Prime kept him on a long leash, reconditioning him any time he suspected that his defects were growing out of hand, and eventually, he vanished.

How interesting he became, too! ‘Hordak’. The notion of a clone being granted a name! His time spent on this planet, where his free will could blossom like a rose bush with no gardener to prune it, saw him truly believe himself to be an individual. Someone else had even come to replace his dear ‘Lord Brother’ in his heart! Hordak’s mind was resistant to his probes, even when he touched him directly… it was one of the many troubling inconveniences of his condition… but there was one particular moment that he treasured so dearly that it shone like a bright light when Prime pushed inside his mind...  
  


The defect’s existence shamed him. Its potential set a primal fear ablaze in him, but it was when he witnessed that memory secondhand that he realized still another emotion had been allowed to develop inside him… Anger.

Anger! This defective clone had inspired within him a sense of petty, irrational loathing. It was a bad comedy! The audacity that a life form which he had created, which he had deigned to permit to exist within a universe which itself existed solely to house his glory, would seek to find happiness outside of its service to him was infuriating. What’s more, his fury about it only served to infuriate him more! For one who would rule all to be so moved by the actions of a single individual was shameful.

Still, while he waited to see the potential of this weapon, his ambitions were on hold for a time. This was fine. He would indulge himself this childish fascination while he vacationed on this backwater planet. ‘Hordak’ would know the honor of his undivided attention as he moved to destroy him. If his mind, his ‘soul’ could not be erased, then perhaps it could be crushed? Even if his heart did endure such a blow, it would provide him some entertainment. An excellent warm-up performance for crushing the will of the planet that defect had failed to bring into line.

Prime decided to end his musings on the subject here, for now. Brooding over emotions he’d never experienced before was the domain of a teenager, not a conqueror. He departed the throne room, his usual confident smile retook its proper place upon his lips, and any sign of the turmoil he’d experienced had been left in past. There was work to be done, and he needed to set Queen Glimmer to the task of repairing his throne.

***

“Alright, just a little further to the right- Okay! Right here’s good!” Entrapta guided the Horde clone as he carried a large metal pillar in both arms. It was no small undertaking, as the device was taller than he was, and nearly as wide, but he offered no protest as he brought it through the lab, setting it down in the spot she requested. When he was finished, Entrapta flashed a thumbs-up at him, using the tip of her pigtail to give him a pat on the back.  
  
“Thank you, Kevin! Good work today.” She had been in high spirits ever since she’d been granted this lab space within the castle. Kevin the clone gave her what an outsider may mistake to be the normal, emotionless stare that all members of the Horde’s clone army constantly wore, but she’d been around them often enough to be able to tell that he was happy. At least, she liked to think so.   
  
She wasn’t sure when exactly she’d started doing it. To hear her friends talk about it, she got the impression that they thought all the clones were identical, but she didn’t understand that, at all! They may have been genetically identical, but each instance was a unique individual colored by their separate- though admittedly very, very similar- life experiences! She couldn’t deny that keeping track of them without names was hard, though, so she’d taken to naming each new clone she came across.  
  
Kevin was one of the clones assigned to the task of helping set up her lab. Not to be confused with George and Sarah, the clones who guarded the entrance, or Marco, the clone who tried his best to help her usual kitchen staff prepare food for her. Entrapta found the presence of the clones weirdly comforting. Biologically, they were fascinating: a perfect marriage of organism and machine. Since she’d lived most of her life among robots, it was a combination that made it easier for her to feel relaxed around them, and so she’d surrounded herself with them more and more as the weeks had passed.

These days, the only non-clones she still interacted with on a daily basis were Bow and her old kitchen staff. There was good reason for this, of course. Adora was in hiding, trying to coordinate the resistance to the Horde across all the kingdoms, and Glimmer was kept under an especially watchful eye by Horde Prime, who had taken a personal interest in manipulating her. Everyone had their role to play in stalling the horde while they waited for their chance to strike back.

Still, the clones were so fascinating! She wished she could study them more closely! Oh, but she knew she shouldn’t. Horde Prime ordered her to repair the key… and her friends wanted her to do that, too, since the key was also the sword of She-ra… and the sword of She-ra was one of the most powerful and mysterious relics of the First Ones Entrapta had ever seen, so she was more than happy to work on it… and…  
  
“Aah! It’s all so cool! I wish I could do everything at once.” She brought the heel of her hand to her forehead and groaned. No use complaining, though! It was a good problem to have. There would always be new questions to answer, and new things to learn. She couldn’t contain her excitement at the thought of it, so she hummed merrily as she began to hook the pillar Kevin had brought her into the lab’s central computer.

“You’re in high spirits. Has there been a breakthrough?” A deep, stern voice erupted from behind her. Entrapta’s heart skipped a beat as she cast a glance over her shoulder, peering toward the entrance to the lab. The automatic doors had parted, and a tall, masculine silhouette was all that blocked the light pouring in from the outside.

“Hi Hordak!” She beamed at her lab partner, raising an arm to wave at him. He shifted his weight awkwardly, at this, his ears pinning sideways.

“You still insist upon calling me that, I see.” He said in a gruff tone, perhaps with the hope of sounding unhappy, though the light blush that colored his cheeks implied otherwise. Names weren’t a luxury they were allowed in the horde. Those great enough to earn titles would be addressed by them, while the rank and file were addressed by their birth number, on the rare occasion they were addressed individually at all.

“Of course. It’s your name!” By her request, each of the rooms in the laboratory were connected by a series of large vents, and each of the ceilings were peppered with a series of metal bars: a means of making it easier for her to travel by her hair. She made use of these bars now, whipping herself up and over to him, producing her tablet from the depths of her pants pocket and lifting it into his view. “No breakthroughs, yet, though. We’re still hung up on trying to find an ideal composition for the blade. Too thick and it slows down the transfer of energy from the vessel, but too thin and it shatters from the vibrations sent through it.”

Hordak looked over the information she presented him, nodding his understanding. “We can break as many prototypes as we need to while we get the ratio right, and we will get it right eventually. As long as we’re working together, there is nothing we cannot accomplish.” In truth, he was in no rush to succeed.

“Yeah!” She agreed, whipping herself around to return to her work. Most of the raw components they’d been using to assemble the new key were laid out over a long table in the lab’s center, and the pair of them stood side by side as they worked. It was, to be honest, a complicated feeling for her. On the one hand, she could now officially confirm that working with a lab partner was just the best. She wasn’t sure she could go back to working alone, now. Hordak was almost the same as he’d ever been. Softer now, it seemed... He’d only lived a month since his mind was reset, and that month had been spent in the relative peace of ruling over Etheria, rather than in the heat of galactic conquest, but the core of what made him who he was remained unchanged.

On the other hand, he wasn’t the same. His memory of the time they’d spent together before being reunited was gone, and since so many memories of that time were so precious to her, the fact they didn’t share them was unpleasant for her. She simultaneously felt the relief of happiness of seeing a loved one again, but also the anger and frustration of having that loved one stolen from her.

“Once this project is finished, my brother will finally acknowledge me. He’ll see that the two of us have value!” Hordak shared a dream he often expressed to her when they worked. Entrapta listened, but bit her tongue when he mentioned his brother, feeling tempted to draw down her mask.

Other people… tended to assume that she was some sort of robot. Not literally, of course! At least, she didn’t think they assumed it literally… but close enough, either way! They seemed to assume that she didn’t care about anything outside of her interests; that she wasn’t capable of a wide range of emotions. She probably didn’t help these assumptions. It was true that she hyper-focused onto things that interested her, and that it was painfully difficult for her to express how she felt using either words or body language.

Still, being misunderstood in such a way wasn’t fun. She felt the same emotions as anyone else, exactly as strongly. She could be made to feel scared, annoyed, or even sad… Whether she could adequately express those feelings or not.

Horde Prime made her angry.

Entrapta turned her head slightly, looking up at Hordak’s chest out of the corner of her eye. His armor had been repainted, but the cavity in its center remained unfilled. She frowned at this, letting her hair continue her work with the device before her while she let one of her hands slip down into her pocket. She groped with her fingertips for the outline of the First One’s medallion she kept there and, upon finding it, gripped it tightly.

Her love of research, her desire to make her friends happy… she had a lot of reasons for why she ended up doing the things she did, but she didn’t usually involve herself in politics. This new war with Horde Prime marked the first time she’d every taken a side in a conflict based on a genuine desire to defeat an enemy. He had robbed her of something precious to her, even if she didn’t fully understand her own feelings about it. Not only that, but as long as he lived, he would always be a source of misery for Hordak, and danger for her friends.

When the princesses abandoned her, she instinctively blamed herself. When Catra betrayed her, she still couldn’t help feeling that there was something good somewhere inside her. All she saw when she interacted with Horde Prime was cruelty and dismissal. He was the kind of person she liked the least: one who had no desire to uncover mysteries and change his understanding, but who instead decided upon his position in advance, and then destroyed everything that contradicted that position afterward.

For now, however, there was science(!!) to be done! She never thought she would get the chance to construct She-ra’s sword! The inner mechanisms were so complex that a single mistake would cause the entire device to combust. It was so cool! She released her grip on the medallion in her pocket and returned her focus wholly to her work. Hordak realized that she was looking at him, and smiled warmly at her. She returned the smile, letting her hand brush past his as they worked.


End file.
